


Rebirth

by Miya_Morana



Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-07-20
Updated: 2012-07-20
Packaged: 2017-11-10 08:50:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,571
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/464443
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Miya_Morana/pseuds/Miya_Morana
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Gabriel's pagan body has turned to dust soon after the archangel died, but God can still feel the remnants of his grace in the black marks left by his wings. He crouches down and brushes Chuck's fingers against them.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Rebirth

**Author's Note:**

> This was a birthday gift for morganoconner back in 2010, because she's awesome and deserves to get things!  
> Beta-ed by kijikun.

Chuck types the last words of the last Carver Edlund novel and stares at the computer screen for a while. He can't quite believe this is it. For five years he's been virtually living through his characters, through Sam and Dean, and it all built up to this, to Sam pulling the Devil back into his cage and taking Michael with him. Is it really over? Is he really going to have his life back now?

 _Not quite yet,_ the voice in his head tells him. _I just have one last thing I need you to do for me._

And yeah, hadn't that been one hell of a surprise. The Winchesters and their angel had looked everywhere for God, and all this time He had been hiding in Chuck's head, whispering words in his mind (hence the terrible headaches) but otherwise just going along for the ride. Which Chuck had obviously no idea about, otherwise he probably would have cut down on the booze and the hookers.

 _Aw, don't say that,_ God's voice is far to amused to Chuck's taste. _I already told you, I don't want you to act any different than you would have otherwise. I enjoy living a perfectly human life, and it includes booze and hookers._

Chuck sighs, finishing his whiskey in one long gulp. Yeah, right, as if now that he knows God literally witnesses _everything_ he does, things could ever be the same. He relaxes anyway, feels the numbing feeling of the Creator taking his body over, and then he's just a flicker of consciousness in the back of his own mind. His lips stretch in a mysterious smile as God sits back in the writing chair and moves the world around him.

To anyone watching the scene, it would have looked like Chuck just disappeared into thin air. But really, God didn't move at all. Except that now, instead of being seated at Chuck's desk, He's on a chair in the dining room of an empty four star motel. He gets up and slowly walks towards the huge shadows of wings printed on the floor.

Gabriel's pagan body has turned to dust soon after the archangel died, but God can still feel the remnants of his grace in the black marks left by his wings. He crouches down and brushes Chuck's fingers against them. Not that he needs any kind of physical connection to do what he's about to do, but he likes the symbolism.

An ineffably bright light fills the room and Gabriel is standing in front of his Father. Chuck's eyes can't quite percieve all that is the archangel, and his mind provides him with in impossible superposition of light and chaos and beauty, of wind and power, and of wings, thousands of wings folding and unfolding around themselves. The archangel's true voice is a white, piercing noise beyond the earthly relm, but God hears his son's none-words clearly.

"Dad? What happenned?" There's fear and pain and worry in his voice.

God reaches out with Chuck's hand and strokes the equivalent of Gabrie's cheek. It's warm and impossible against the prophet's skin, but it seems to calm the archangel a little.

"Do not fret my son," God says with Chuck's voice. "Thanks to you, humanity has won. Sam and Dean Winchester managed to lock Lucifer back into the Pit, and he's no longer alone there. Michael's arrogance made him fall in with his brother. I'm hoping they will both learn from this, and maybe next time things might go differently."

Gabriel is basking in the feeling of God's presence. For hundreds of years, he pretended he didn't feel the throbbing pain of His absence, and to be able to feel Him again is something he had never dared to hope for.

"And Sam?" he asks, eventually. The younger Winchester, Lucifer's vessel, reminded Gabriel so much of himself, and he was afraid the plan he'd given the brothers didn't end well for him.

"He's Down There, too. He was brave and righteous in the end, stopped running from himself and from his fate. Just like you. He doesn't deserve such an end."

"Is there any way you could...?" Gabriel doesn't finish his sentence. His Father can't _not_ know of his inappropriate feelings for Sam Winchester. There's no way he can possibly approve of this, but it doesn't mean He would leave the boy to a fate he doesn't deserve.

"Ease your mind, son. There is no reason for you to fear the feelings you have for that man. Love is the most powerful force in this world, and you should not ignore it."

"I... I don't _love_ him, Father!" Gabriel protests, but God just chuckles in answer.

"Of course you do, you just don't know it yet. And to answer your question, _I_ can't get Samuel out of the Pit. _You_ can."

***

Sam has no idea how long it's been since the cemetery. Time doesn't really carry any sort of meaning here. All he's aware of is the darkness and the pain, and Lucifer's anger burning in his mind. There are no words to describe what Hell feels like, and even if there were Sam would be unable to think clearly long enough to find them, let alone speak them.

One moment he's writhing in agony, and what could as easily be a second or an eternity later, he feels a warm, soft light wrapping around him, pulling him from the darkness and the pain. The impossible light folds inside of him, and Sam hears Lucifer's scream of rage in the back of his mind before the Devil's presence vanishes completely.

As his body is dragged out of Hell, there's a mind brushing against Sam's. It's both foreign and familiar, and Sam thinks maybe he should be less trusting, but it's so warm and full of reassurances that everything will be alright, so full of love, that he can't help it. Sam opens his mind and spirit and soul to the light, and for the briefest of moments, he and Gabriel are one.

When he opens his eyes, he's back in the cemetery. He looks down at his hands and marvels at being able to flex his own finger. In his mind, Gabriel laughs. It's more affectionate than mocking, and Sam smiles, turning his eyes to the night sky.

"How long?" he asks, bathing in the starlight. His senses are sharper than ever, and he would swear he can actually feel the light on his skin, though if this is due to his time in Hell or to the archangel currently inhabiting his body he couldn't say.

 _Not sure,_ comes the answer, _a few months I'd say. I kind of missed on the big finale, you know._

And Sam knows. Sam knows everything about Gabriel now. Tentatively, he finds the connection between their minds and sends as much gratitude and affection as he can through it. He feels Gabriel grow warmer in him, and smiles again.

 _I can take you to Dean if you want,_ the angel says eventually. It's soft in a way Sam would have never thought Gabriel could be.

"I'd like that, yes."

Gabriel gently nudges Sam aside and takes control of his body. He lifts his hand, grins, and snaps.

The light bulb of the street lamp they appear under dies with a small spark. They're in Cicero, Indiana, and Sam knows just whose house they're watching, knows whose silhouettes are outlined through that window. He wonders if his brother is happy.

 _I can check,_ Gabriel offers, and Sam's eyes shine a little bit. He feels the archangel's consciousness stretch toward the house, then come back. _He's holding up okay for now, but he misses you, and misses his old life. Misses my baby brother too, for some reason._

Sam takes a deep breath, exhales slowly. _Are you going to tell him you're back?_ Gabriel asks eventually.

"No." Sam tears his eyes away from the apple-pie life scene playing in front of him. "Not yet. I don't want him to see me, see _us_ like this. He wouldn't understand."

Gabriel sighs in his mind, mumbling something about humans being so thick sometimes, and takes control back over Sam's body. A second later, the only sign they were ever there is a burned out street lamp.

***

It takes them two weeks and four days to rebuild Gabriel's old vessel. Because the archangel has no intension of going back to Heaven, not now that he's found Sam again, and stopped hiding from his feelings, and Michael might be locked down in the Pit but Raphael is still out there, and he can be a real pain in the ass.

At first, Gabriel wanted to make a new body, create a new identity for himself, but then he remembered seeing in Sam's mind that the boy actually liked his Trickster guise, so he sets up to rebuild a body as close to Loki's as possible. It's exhausting work, molding a human shape with only atoms to start with, and then breathe just enough life into it to make it inhabitable without giving it a real consciousness, without making it sentient.

For long periods of time, the archangel has to retreat at the back of Sam's mind to rest, and the hunter dutifully stands guard in the empty house they've settled in, protecting their work against whatever could stumble upon them. Gabriel's presence inside him is like a warm blanket he can wrap around himself, and it's like he's never alone. Sam refuses to think of what it'll be like when the angel leaves his mind.

The day comes, however, and Sam and Gabriel are kneeling on the floor, over Gabriel's new body. It looks like it's sleeping, its chest rising slowly with each of its deep breaths, but the archangel's senses tell them how empty that naked form is. Sam's hand combs gently through its hair and he bends over, brushing his lips to the empty vessel's. Gabriel's grace wraps tightly around him, a warm embrace that feels too much like a farewell to bring Sam real comfort.

Sam's head is thrown backwards as Gabriel unfolds out of him. For the briefest of moments he can feel bright wings stretch out of his spine, then it's just whiteness everywhere, in him and around him, before he's alone in his own mind and body again. A strange emptiness settles over him as he watches the eyes of Gabriel's new body blink open. Slowly, carefully, the archangel sits up, stretching his new muscles. He looks up at Sam and grins mischievously.

"There's something I've been wanting to do almost since the first time I met you," Gabriel says, and his voice is just as flirty and full of innuendo in this form than it was in Sam's head. The angel grabs Sam's neck and hauls him down into a maddeningly lascivious kiss, all tongues and lips, teeth and amused smiles. _Mine,_ Sam hears in his head, and he almost startles.

 _Yours,_ Sam agrees silently as he lets Gabriel push him down against the thick blanket that's now covering the floor. It wasn't there a minute ago, and the hunter sighs at its softness under his palms. Gabriel's mouth latches on his neck, his hands are everywhere, pushing Sam's clothes out of the way, touching every inch of Sam's skin greedily.

"Gabriel," the human moans, reaching, grabbing Gabriel's waist, pulling the archangel between his parting legs. He needs this, needs to feel a connection, any kind of connection, between the two of them. He doesn't have time to overthink this, doesn't have time to be afraid, he just _needs_.

Gabriel's mouth travels down his chest, kissing, licking, sometimes gently biting, and Sam is a mess under the archangel's hands and lips. There's a warm breath against the tip of his erection, a teasing huff of amusement, then a soft tongue presses against it. Sam looks down to where Gabriel is kneeling between his legs, watches as the archangel, _his_ archangel, stretches his lips around the head and takes him in.

It's tight and wet and warm, and one of Sam's hands grabs the blanket under him while the other tangles in Gabriel's soft hair. His hips buck up, pushing him deeper into the archangel's mouth, and he hears a chuckle in his mind.

"Damn you, Gabriel," he breathes, voice ragged and lost. There's a slick finger brushing against his entrance, pushing in. It's strange, but in a good way, and Sam pushes back. "Please," he begs, "please Gabriel, I need more." _I need you._

 _Patience, Sam,_ the archangel whispers in his mind, but Sam can feel urgency radiating from Gabriel as he slips a second finger into Sam, stretches him open. He pushes against something in Sam that makes him see stars, and the human's back arches off the floor as he moans Gabriel's name.

The air is cold on his wet skin when the archangel's mouth slips off him. Gabriel kneels closer, grabbing Sam's hips up. A snap, and there are cushions underneath his waist. As slowly as he can, Gabriel pushes inside of Sam. The human's breath catches, but their eyes meet and all he can see there is lust and love and want, so he pushes in deeper, until he's completely buried in Sam.

The air crackles around them as they start moving together, slowly at first, then faster as they get lost in their physical connection. It's a pale copy of what they used to share, but it's intense in a way their sharing one body wasn't. They're both panting, chanting each other's name like a prayer. They aren't going to last much longer, they're both plainly aware of it, but they don't care.

One of Gabriel's hands is pressed flat against Sam's stomach burning hot on his skin, and the other one wraps around his erection. Sam hisses in pleasure; it's too much, the angel's inside of him, his hands on him, and the fire in his eyes is doing impossible things to him. When Gabriel says his name again, voice rough and wreaked, that's it, he tips over the edge, coming all over the archangel's hand and his own stomach.

Gabriel pounds in him just once, twice more, and shouts Sam's name as his own orgasm takes him. There's a blinding light that forces Sam's eyes closed, but just for a fraction of a second he thinks he can see the shadows of huge, dark wings behind his lover's back.

Later, when they're both lying on the blanket, legs entwined and fingers laced together, they will talk about the red handprint on Sam's belly, about how their minds are somehow still connected, how they'll never ever be alone again. They'll talk about seeing Dean again, and maybe going back to hunting or maybe just staying low, enjoy the second chance at living they were given. They'll kiss slowly and Sam will drift off to sleep with Gabriel in his arms, feeling safer than he ever has in his whole life.

But right now, Sam just wraps his arms around Gabriel, trying to bring his breathing back to normal. _I love you,_ the angel whispers in his mind, and Sam smiles.

"I know," he says out loud. "I think I love you too."

"You better, kiddo!" Gabriel's voice is lazy and amused in his ear. "Because I'm not going anywhere."


End file.
